


One AM

by autisticblueteam



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Autistic Character, F/F, Fluff, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-25
Updated: 2016-08-25
Packaged: 2018-08-11 01:02:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7869187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/autisticblueteam/pseuds/autisticblueteam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>South wakes up to Connie braiding her hair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One AM

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a tumblr fluff starter prompt, “Shh, stop fussing. I’m just braiding your hair.”

“Shh, stop fussing. I’m just braiding your hair.”

Groggy from being woken up, South pulled a face. She twisted her head to look back over her shoulder, only for her bedmate to push it back so that she was staring across the room at the stripped bed against the opposite wall. Soft tugging motions pulled at her scalp, dulled by the haze of sleep, and even with an explanation she found it brought up more questions than it gave answers.

“I— What?” She groaned, trying to turn her head a second time. Once again it was pushed back, “Connie, what the fuck.”

“Connie, what the fuck,” Connie mimicked, followed by a few sharper tugs, “I told you, I’m braiding your hair.”

“Yeah, but— why the fuck are you doing that?” South said, groaning a little at how rough her voice sounded. She tried to turn her head a _third_ time, but met the same resistance as before, “Connie. _Babe_.”

“Well, for one, I like braiding hair. It’s therapeutic. Your hair is soft, and braiding is very repetitive,” Connie said, and South felt her shrug in the way that it tugged on her head. Fast and agile fingers combed through and twisted her hair with ease, “Two, your hair is getting longer. It gets in my face when I’m spooning you, and I’d rather not suffocate in my sleep. I’m pretty sure that would knock me off the leader board completely.”

South snorted at that; she could practically hear the smug smile on Connie’s face.

“Very funny.”

“Thank you, I try.”

“But fucking seriously though, Connie, talk about fucking weird-ass timing. It’s what—” She squinted at the nearest communicator “—one in the _motherfucking_ morning. You’re braiding my hair. At one in the fucking morning.”

“Yup.”

There was a pause, Connie’s fingers never stopping, before South heaved a sigh and turned to look at her girlfriend— partner— whatever.

“Alright, what the fuck is bothering you tonight?” She said. She saw the protest on the tip of Connie’s tongue, and raised a finger to her lips before she could voice it, “Connie, don’t bullshit me. You’re keeping your hands busy, something’s fucking bothering you.”

Connie shook her head, “Nothing’s bothering me, South. I’m just restless and couldn’t sleep. Usually I’d work on some coding, to ‘keep my hands busy’ and relax, but they took away my equipment rights because of the leaks.”

“ _Your_ equipment rights?” South said, raising a brow.

“ _Everyone’s_ equipment rights,” Connie said, mimicking the expression, “Don’t be difficult South.”

“Mm, but I am difficult,” A smirk danced across her lips, and Connie giggled quietly under her breath. Smirk only growing, South twisted so that their faces were level. Connie’s hair tickled her cheek, “That’s just how you like me.”

“Well, you’re not wrong,” Connie admitted, trying and failing to look unamused. When South’s smirk became a face-splitting grin, she couldn’t help but laugh, “Oh, shut up and kiss me or something.”

South didn’t need to be told twice, bringing their lips together with force that Connie easily returned. Her arm draped over the smaller woman’s side, pulling her close as her free hand cupped the back of her head. After snapping a band around the bottom of a now finished braid her fingers laced into her hair, pulling her closer. It was as much a distraction as a show of affection, they both knew, but that didn’t matter. Nothing much mattered when South’s lips were moving against Connie’s and they were holding each other tight.

“You know,” Connie said, when they finally parted, “Your hair will probably be wavy when you take it out of that braid tomorrow.”

“Who says I’m not taking it out now?”

“Do you want me to keep being big spoon? Because if not…” She trailed off, lips twitching at the reluctant groan that came from South.

“You’re lucky you’re fucking cute,” She retorted, huffing and rolling over. Connie’s warmth was pressed against her back again within moments, her face buried against the back of South’s neck. Her lips tickled. “If I walk into the locker room with wavy fucking hair like a little girl some cockmunch is gonna laugh, you know that right?”

“Maybe,” Her breath tickled too, “But who cares? You’ll kick their ass.”

South grinned, closing her eyes, “Eh. If they’re even worth my fucking time.”

Connie laughed, her body shaking as she pressed up against South’s back. Her arms wrapped tight around her torso; she nuzzled against the back of her neck; and her legs intertwined with South’s. South revelled in the closeness and the warmth.

“Goodnight, South.”

“Night Connie. Again.”

As it turns out, it would be York who muffled a laugh at the sight of South with waves in her hair. And, as it turns out, South did decide it was worth her fucking time. Besides, Connie had told her that she looked good with her hair like that, and South was feeling good as she walked into the locker room. So, really, York only had himself to blame.


End file.
